Sunday, December 22, 2013

Brisbane River from pedestrian walkway on Eleanor Schonell Bridge

Christmas is high summer in Brisbane. The skies are blue, the breezes warm and the birds often raucous. Barbies are more common than traditional Old World feasts, but some insist on sweltering away in the kitchen to produce the ham, turkey or roast they remember from childhood. The native Brush Turkeys have nothing to fear, though, although reputedly they aren't such bad tucker. Well, nothing to fear from cooks, but gardeners are likely to chase them out of the veggie patch when they try to turn it into a mound of compost.

Male Australian Brush Turkey

Surprisingly, although Australia boasts 38 genera of cicadas (32 endemic), and cicada-season runs most of the year (August through June), the City days have been free from the intense droning that I remember from field work in the nearby scrub. That's quite likely because it has been dry and many cicadas do not emerge until after the rains have commenced. Each evening at dusk, however, for about 15 minutes the air fills with the trilling of cicada, one of the Small Bottle Cicadas and probably Chlorocysta vitripennis (Westwood, 1851) or a closely related species.

Female Small Bottle Cicada

The cicada's common name comes from the bloated and empty bottle-like bodies of the males: the females are more sleek and apparently less likely to escape the attention of young proto-entomologists in the morning.

Saturday, December 7, 2013

The shift in locations for the Home Bug Garden is under way - and none too soon as Alberta gives me a chilly farewell and Brisbane a warm reception. Some wandering will be in order and a final HBG Oz may take a while, but my peregrinations will start popping up here.

Brush-tails prefer apples to mangoes - De gustibus ...

It is all different here, and yet familiar as the memories come back one-by-one. Perhaps Queensland is not as spectacular as Alberta in relief or size of its native mammals, but it is hard to think of anything else that it lacks. And I prefer Ring-tails to Red Squirrels, although the former are more of a pest if you are trying to regenerate native plants.

Monday, October 14, 2013

It was almost a decade ago that the Home Bug Garden first moved from a vague ideal to the beginnings of a buggy reality. Since then it has grown from a quackgrass and dandelion wasteland to a reasonable model of, if not a subtropical paradise, then a sub-boreal meadow-woodland.

A backyard pond begins to take form.

As the new garden added essential components such as a water source and structural diversity composed of herbaceous perennials, shrubs, and trees it also increased in diversity from a near wasteland to a moderately diverse invertebrate habitat (524 species that we have identified so far). Vertebrates also increasingly use the garden with the pond, adjacent birdbath and dense vegetative cover a welcome respite to many migrant birds that never paused before and a better foraging habitat for those tough natives that can survive the long Edmonton winters.

Structural diversity generates biological diversity

At the height of summer the pond is barely visible to humans due to the surrounding vegetation, but the bugs, birds and small mammals (including what looked like a Water Shrew; or perhaps, or a vole that likes to swim) find it easily and often.

Home Bug Garden backyard in August 2013

I hope the Home Bug Garden will continue to grow and prosper, but the Fates have decided that whatever contribution I may make to invertebrate conservation in the future will be in a distant and far different human-dominated ecosystem. Since it is the same land from which I drifted 10 years ago; however, I am looking forward to the repatriation and chance to make life a little more interesting for bugs and bug-lovers alike.

Tuesday, July 30, 2013

Learning a new group of insects is always a challenge, but some groups are easier than others. Moths are a special challenge because there are so many of them. As of 2010, Greg Pohl and his coauthors have documented 2367 species of Lepidoptera in Alberta and more are added each year. The vast majority of these are moths, but 175 or so are butterflies.

Like all living organisms, moths show individual variation within a species, some genetic, some the result of developmental or ecological experiences. Many moths also seem to exhibit a general convergence in patterns among various species and genera.

A pair of 'Carpet Moths', mystery moth on left, Dysstroma hersiliata (Guenée, 1858) on right

This is particularly striking in the many species of moths with forewing patterns that seem to break up their outlines and allow them to blend into the background where they rest during the day - on tree trunks and limbs, among lichens or dead leaves, on the ground, or in a shadow somewhere. Presumably much of the variation in colour and patterns in the wings results from natural selection that improves the survival of moths with patterns appropriately cryptic for the places they like to rest.

Also known as the Large Brassy Plusia, another Diachrysia balluca under the black light

Bird predation is known to have been a primary factor in the classic example of the Peppered Moth (aka Pepper & Salt Geometer) becoming the Carbon Black Moth in industrial England. As the smoke from coal fires coated the bark and branches of light-coloured trees, the white & black patterned Peppered Moth populations became dominated by melanistic forms - dark as coal dust. More impressively, as clean air laws and the change to other fuels resulted in a drastic reduction in particulate pollution, the Peppered Moth morph again became the more common. Such switching between two morphs is easy to understand, but the seemingly random variation in patterns is less so.

A Green-Arches resting on a grill - probably not its natural resting place

These BugGuide Green ArchesAnaplectoides prasina (Denis & Schiffermüller, 1775) are a nice example of variations within a theme. No two moths are exactly the same, yet the underlying patterns are all similar. I'm guessing these moths like to rest on lichen covered surfaces, but it is hard to think like a bird, and perhaps they see it differently. Not much seems to be known about where moths hang out during the day; however, the preponderance of grey to brown to buff patterns resembling bark and lichens among the mid to larger moths seems suggestive.

Aposematic Virgin Tiger Moth Grammia virgo (Linnaeus, 1758)

Not all moths are cryptic, of course, but often the reason for being bold is clear. The Virgin Tiger Moth above, for example, is positively shouting "Do't eat me: I taste badddd!", although that probably wouldn't help much in the dark and one wonders what a bat would think? Spicy?

What is this Hologram Moth trying to tell me?

And I wonder what birds and bats think about the Green-backed Looper? I know what I think - if you are going to use a flash to take pictures of this moth, you will need a flash diffuser. Other than that, though, I find this looper confusing. It is very large for a Plussine, so presumably would make a good meal for a bird or bat. Having now seen the moth resting during the day (picture at the top), however, I'm guessing it may like to hide among dying or damaged leaves. I've got no idea why it has such a strange hairdo though.

Saturday, July 27, 2013

If you've read this blog before, you know me for a whinger about the Alberta weather. You probably imagine me as a grouchy old wanker with nothing better to do than look out his window and feel sorry for himself. Well, there is something to that: I often look out my window and feel totally depressed by the weather (the climate is beyond my comprehension).

Herpetogramma pertextalis (Lederer, 1863), most likely

Still, I soldier on and find what I can to be positive about in this land in which I find myself imprisoned (my heroic aspect revealed). This weekend has been a tough one - pretty bloody miserable after a string of ordinary to miserable weekends all 'summer'. Still, I had a few hours last night with the blacklight before the massive thunderstorm hit about 3:40 am.

Probably Herpetogramma pertextalis, but maybe Sitochroa chortalis

This moth was one of the several interesting - oh why be coy - very cool moths that fluttered into the light between showers and downpours last night. Took me a long time to figure out its probable name because it looks so geometrioidy. But no, it is a Pyraloidea of one ilk or another, and quite possibly the rather rare (in Alberta) Bold-feathered Grass Moth.

Carpet moth, as yet identified

Should I brave the thunder and lightening again tonight or try to get some sleep? Well, when one sleeps one may, perchance, dream. Is a moth at the light worth a pleasant dream? Well, beats a nightmare and we have all winter to sleep. My guess is that this is Dysstroma hersiliata (Guenée, 1858), the Orange-barred Carpet Moth, but a better picture would be nice and who knows what else may show up.

Friday, July 26, 2013

In Alberta, that too far north for comfort latitudinal range, one gets used to being biodiversity-challenged. If you went back in time a decade of thousand years - nada in geological time - you would have nothing living here except very cold-tolerant algae and bacteria. Still, that pallid and unreliable sun has been shinning with what passes for warmth here for more moth generations than one could easily count.

Antheraea polyphemus (Cramer, 1776) - as big as a mouse, but without the Hanta Virus

Gradually, solar cycles allowing, even Alberta will gradually integrate itself into the Greater North American Biome. Who knows, but maybe one day Grizzlies and Armadillos will frolic together beneath the shadows of the Rockies. Well, best not to expect too much from Mother Nature. To her a barren wasteland of ice or volcanic magma is just as natural as a rainforest. So, while we may, let us imagine a diversity of elegant and attractive moths fluttering around our wasteful nocturnal emissions.

A big, bad Polyphemus caterpillar eating my Mayday

Polyphemus is a big moth - wingspan of about 6 inches (15 cm) - not the biggest, Alberta can boast other giant silk moths such as Luna Moth (apparently a recent arrival) and Glover's Silk Moth - but the biggest that has come fluttering to my night lights. Personally, I welcome all and any additions to Alberta's fauna - as long as they come with their baggage of parasites and predators that not only add to our biodiversity, but keep any one species from being too, too common.

A dozen Polyphemus caterpillars in a Mayday is interesting, a thousand would be a disaster

In Greek legend and mythology Polyphemus was a big, bad cyclops. Although much spoken of in ancient times, today he and she are just big moths. Is there a greater thrill than having a mouse-sized moth walk on your hand? Well, yes, many, but it is still a very nice thing.

Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Back on the Moth Farm the clouds continue their unending downpour. I huddle next to the wood stove and wonder if the gophers must be learning to swim. The moths, though, seem content to wing their way through the mists between showers and provide some colourful relief from the dreary doldrums of summer in Alberta. Well, some provide colourful relief, but others seem content to blend into the grey background. Compare these two Owlet Moths (Noctuidae): the brightly patterned Two-spotted Looper Autographa bimaculata (Stephens, 1830) and the dull as dishwater Double Dart Graphiphora augur (Fabricius, 1775).

Two-spotted Looper Autographa bimaculata

Bright silver spots, squiggles, scripts and autographs are characteristics of many Owlet Moths but especially those in the subfamily Plusiinae and subtribe Plusiina and are reflected in many generic names based on the Greek root grapho (= write) such as Anagrapha, Autographa, Megalographa, and Syngrapha. What the genus Plusia may refer to, however, is a mystery.

A mystery too is why the silver spots and squiggles? Since similar marking occur on unrelated moths, one might think they serve some function. Perhaps they reflect moonlight or sonar to dazzle bats. In any case, the clouds continue to scuttle across the sky, dropping rain, rain, rain and the moths flutter between squalls and hunker down during them.

Tuesday, July 23, 2013

In the Alberta summer one has to take their enjoyment of nature when they can amongst all of the rains, hail, lightening and strong winds. So far, it has rained two out of every three days in June and July and over 10 inches of rain have fallen in the Home Bug Garden (and much of that has flowed through the basement). However, Saturday night at Gopher Hill from midnight until 1:30 am the rains let up and the black light went out to see what might be roaming around the cloudy darkness.

Malacosoma disstria Hubner, 1820 adult of the Forest Tent Caterpillar

As usual when the black light works its magic here, the response of the nocturnal Lepidoptera overwhelmed all other insects. That's probably an Alberta thing too, at least compared to Queensland and other warmer lands in which I've gone night-lighting - where beetles, wasps, flies and bugs were often almost as diverse as the moths.

Sicya macularia (Harris, 1850) the Sharp-lined Yellow

So, here's a short tribute to just a few of the hardy moths that braved the cool, damp night to flutter around a black-light.

Sunday, July 21, 2013

The start to [Inter]national Moth Week late last night-early this morning was not salubrious in the extended Home Bug Garden. Actually, in the HBG per se it was even wetter and less mothopilic than in the remote site - about 2 km east of Elk Island National Park. Still, through a process of judiciously applied wine, napping, and radar-gazing, I was able to emerge from the cabin, black-light in hand, just after midnight this morning as the rains receded and start attracting moths (and frogs - rain and moths seem to meet with froggy approval).

Underwing in under position

As usual when the blacklight doesn't have to compete with moon or rain, the results were stunning. I hope to be able to share some of the extraordinary diversity of form with my readers later in the week - as one, by one, names are applied. In the meantime, though, here is the first Catocala of the season and the largest of this morning's visitors. I myself was once married, so the common name of this very large and attractive moth has some resonance beyond its beauty and imposing size. But much more is in store in the coming week as the smaller, but no less elaborate ad lumina nigra are exposed.

Saturday, July 20, 2013

Well, the yanks are doing their National Moth Week again and we friendly neighbours to the north are ready to remind them that moths respect not borders. Last week the Environment Canada prediction looked like we would be starting Moth Week with sunshine and clear skies. Well, Edmonton did have on of its rare two days in a row without rain this week; but alas, such perversity is now passed and the clouds and rains have returned.

Haploa lecontei aka LeConte's Haploa, another Tiger Moth

Rain is not so good for mothing, but clouds have a silver lining - cloudy nights are best for blacklighting. So the next week's predicted dreary day after day after day of clouds casts no pall over nights of scaly wonder. As an added bonus, if you stay up late enough each night appreciating moths then you'll probably sleep through most of the dreary day anyway (of course, this could get you fired). With any luck, tonight's rains will have passed before the long northern summer day is done and the black light will once more call forth the amazing diversity of scale-winged beauties. If not, well, I've been saving up moths for you for a rainy night or even a rainy week.

Monday, July 1, 2013

Alberta isn't known for its warm summer evening filled with the songs of insects, but we do have katydids such as this Scudderia pistillata Brunner, 1878. Later in the year the Northern Bush Katydids will be singing at a pitch too high for me to hear, but right now they are concentrating on eating and growing.

Katydid on a Wild Rose for Canada Day

This nymph seems to be inordinately fond of the Provincial Flower - the Wild Rose - and no wonder, roses are full of high protein foods (including male reproductive parts).

Sunday, June 16, 2013

As herbs go, Chives (Allium schoenoprasum)isn't one of my favourites. I find it rather mild and usually too tenuous for my palate. As flowering onions go, though, Chives is attractive and reliable. Even better, the bees love it. On Friday, one of my patches of Chives in the country (at Gopher Hill) had a dozen bumble bee queens nectaring.

Also known as Orange-belted Bumble Bee Bombus ternarius

The most abundant of these bees, and probably the easiest of all Edmonton area bumble bees to learn, was a half dozen Bombus ternarius the Tricoloured Bumble Bee. The only other Bombus here with a pair of orange bands between two yellow ones on the abdomen is Hunt's Bumble Bee (B. huntii) and this bee lacks the black triangle pointing back on the thorax and has yellow hairs on the head and face (usually black in ternarius, as above, but not always). The black triangle is a 'key character' amongst the orange-banded bees.

Hunt's seems to be fairly rare here, but the Tricoloured is very common. In the foothills and mountains, e.g. around Calgary, the Forest Bumble Bee B. sylvicola can look very similar, but usually has two yellow bands behind the orange ones.

Half-black Bumble Bee Queen Bombus vagans or rufocinctus?

More easily confused are the two Half-black Bumble Bees that we have in Edmonton, the 'true' Half-black (B. vagans) and the Perplexing Half-black (B. perplexus - aka Confusing Bumble Bee). I've buggered these up before, but now can usually tell them apart. The local B. perplexus seems to arrive earlier in the spring and has only a small, circular area of black between the wing bases and the yellow on the side of the thorax is interrupted by black. Bombus vagans has more extensive black between the wing bases and uninterrupted yellow under the wings - and often some yellow hairs on the posterior abdomen (nice character when present). [Update - and just to keep us guessing, the ever variable Bombus rufocinctus also has a half-black morph.]

Home Bug Garden Welcome

This blog is a way to reflect on my attempts to make a plot of land designed for humans a tolerable place to live. For me that means surrounding myself with a diversity of living organisms and understanding why I am doing it. If you are interested in understanding your place in nature, in enjoying backyard bugs and birds, or just passing by, then welcome.

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About Me

The Home Bug Gardener once was an expatriate Queenslander (~Zone 10) eking out an insect-friendly garden in Edmonton, AB (Zone 3a). He is now back, warm and dry, in the Mary River Valley of the Sunshine Coast Hinterlands. Gardening for bugs is different here, mostly due to too much sun and warmth and not too little.

HBG Names & Claims

In the Home Bug Garden we don’t kill bugs without a reason (eating too much of a favourite plant is reason enough, but that is rare). That’s good for the bugs, but not so good for their accurate identification: if you want to be sure of the name of an insect, you usually need a dead bug on a pin (and the help of a specialist). We do sacrifice an insect on occasion, but usually we try to get our IDs from pictures, and that means there will be mistakes.

In general, the higher the taxonomic level, the more likely our identification is to be correct. So, family names will usually be correct, genera less often so, and species least of all. In other words, take all identifications on this blog with a grain or two of salt – and if you think you see a misidentification, please let us know and we will be glad to make the correction.